


Come On, Boy

by Lucigoosey_The_Lightbringer



Series: Prodigal Son One-Shots And Drabbles [1]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Brainwashed Malcolm Bright, Brainwashing, Dissociation, Gen, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Manipulation, Martin Whitly Being an Asshole, Mind Manipulation, Murder, Young Malcolm Bright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29443254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucigoosey_The_Lightbringer/pseuds/Lucigoosey_The_Lightbringer
Summary: Mutely, Malcolm nods. His eyes are locked on the knife, and his hand tingles with the suppressed urge to shake, the effort it takes to hold himself steady.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright & Martin Whitly
Series: Prodigal Son One-Shots And Drabbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164734
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Come On, Boy

**Author's Note:**

> hap valentine day-

" _Come on, boy!"_

The world tilts and blurs away for a second, and comes back colored in red.

Malcolm's right hand is shaking, curled tightly around a knife. Martin is behind him, crouched down low, both of his hands cupped tightly around Malcolm's, moving him, directing him. Ahead, a man sits in a chair, screaming around the gag in his mouth, straining at his restraints. His eyes are all for Martin, despite Malcolm being the one with the knife; the fury on his face is unparalleled. Malcolm doesn't know why he's not more afraid right then. But as the world continues to chip away from him, he finds he doesn't care as much as he thinks he should; like someone had wiped him clean, blank like a whiteboard, the fear tightening in his chest, the anxiety and confusion melts away all at once to nothing. The world darkens, a blanket of dark red falling across it, like blood. In front of him, however, the man glows much brighter red at the edges, colors flickering and fading and returning rapidly as Martin continues to edge him on.

"That's it, my boy," Martin whispers in his ear, moving him closer still. The man's screaming silences suddenly, but he's still straining, his mouth is still open, still struggling to speak. But the only thing Malcolm can hear is his father's voice beside him, soft and gentle, "slow and _steady_."

Malcolm blinks. The tremor in his hand falls still.

"Good boy."

Martin makes him lift his hand, the tip of the knife pressing against the man's chest. This time he feels the vibration beneath it as he screams, but he's smart enough to fall still, chest heaving.

"Are you ready?" Martin murmurs, kissing the side of his head.

Mutely, Malcolm nods. His eyes are locked on the knife, and his hand tingles with the suppressed urge to shake, the effort it takes to hold himself steady. But he has to. He doesn't know why, but he has to. Slow and steady. _Slow and steady_. Martin centers the knife again, throwing an amused smile up toward the man before turning to his task while the screams slowly subside into sobs. Malcolm catches a glimpse of his tear-streaked face, eyes shut now.

A flicker of pain stirs in his chest.

"Come on, boy."

He plunges the knife in.


End file.
